


Coming In Handy

by flamingburningfandomtrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Did i just do it for the hand puns, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Plot What Plot, This honestly makes no sense, yes - Freeform, yes i did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingburningfandomtrash/pseuds/flamingburningfandomtrash
Summary: You want to take Sans to a movie. Turns out the hardest part is getting him there in the first place.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59





	Coming In Handy

**Author's Note:**

> hand puns hand puns hand puns

You were pretty surprised when you learned Sans has never been on a subway before. Your city is full of them- how could he have avoided using them this long? Well, maybe the proper word isn’t AVOIDED. He only tends to AVOID people. You shoot him a sidelong glance in the taxi. He’s staring out the window, watching all the buildings shoot by outside. Yep. That little ball of wonder and depression has avoided you before. Mostly when he’s scared or awkward. There was one hell of a lot of avoiding three months ago, before he asked you out. And, look at him now. Taking you to a movie like a gentleman. It had been your idea to take the scenic route through the busy part of town. Taxi to a subway station, subway station to the movie theatre. 

He admitted he had conflicting feelings about humans who had purposefully chosen to go underground for transportation. You insisted there was never any trapping involved- well. You hadn’t mentioned the occasional malfunctions of the trains. But, hey! He also said the idea sounded like home! And you always want to make him feel at home.

“You still nervous?” you ask, poking him in the ribs. “It’s not scary, ya dingus.”

“you callin’ ME the dingus, ya dork? yeah, i’m nervous. but, i dunno. rollercoaster nervous, y’know? you know it’s not going to be bad when you get there, but the anticipation of the thing gets you all scrambled up.”

“Heh- you’re an egg.”

“egg-cellent.”

“Heck yeah you are.”

While he laughs, you stretch out, draping an arm around his shoulders. He rolls his eyes at you, but you know he likes it.

“C’mooooon… smile for me? Just a little bit?”

He looks over, a half-grimace on his face. “‘m always smilin’, y’know. no choice, ‘member?”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” you whine. “I’m just happy when you are.”

He gives you a soft- real- smile and loops an arm around your waist. Not to be romantic: but it’s just the only way he can hold onto you without attacking your neck with his hard elbows. You tried holding on that way once, looking all buddy-buddy and whatnot. He bent his arm, the. crook pinched ahold of a chunk of your hair, and when you released each other, he took it clean out. That had hurt like hell THEN, but NOW you think it’s hilarious. Sans still feels guilty, though. You still have a little spot where your hair is shorter.

“you’re crazy, you know that, right?”

“You love it.”

“. . .yeah. you’ve really got me this time.”

“N’yaw.”

“shuddup.”

You jump when the car swerves- your taxi driver lets out a string of profanities. Sans instinctively holds onto you a bit tighter, moving his other hand over to hold onto yours. He doesn’t like it when strangers drive. He told you, quite seriously, if any of these guys try anything when it comes to all the dangerous things he reads about on the news- stuff like kidnapping, crashing by mistake, driving somewhere dangerous, et cetera- you were supposed to hide behind him. You know he would defend you with his life, but the idea of him getting in front of you and trying to hide you with his tiny self always makes you giggle. 

“what are you laughin’ at?” he asks, poking you. You snort.

“You.”

“why?”

“Because you’re hilarious.”

“wasn’t try’na be.”

You laugh to yourself and squeeze him. “No disrespect, bonehead. Just think you’re adorable.”

He rolls his eyelights, blushing, and looks up when the taxi driver screeches to a halt and demands his cash. As per usual, there are demands for an extra “monster fee”, but you don’t give in. You just pay what you owe him and let Sans shortcut you out of there.

“whew. you humans and your monster fees,” he sighs, shuddering off the feeling of the void. 

“Right? We’re exhausting. Ugh. Creep.” 

Sans has noticed you use that word- creep- rather flippantly. Though he has managed to nail down that it’s a word that you use on people who don’t treat you with respect. And you often say it with a lot of malice behind your voice. He looked it up on the internet once. It’s supposed to be a word for people who stalk other people or do other creepy things. He can’t help but feel slightly conflicted when you tease him with the name. Like, he knows it’s a joke. But if he’s legitimately doing something wrong to you, he doesn’t want you to just joke with him about it. 

“Oh- look over there, that’s the subway entrance, you ready?”

“claustrophobia and nostalgia, here i come.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“where?”

“What?”

“you said there was a spirit. i wanted to say hi to napstablook.”

At first you think he’s serious, but he has the little shine in his eyelights that tells you he’s just pulling your leg, so you decide to play along.

“Oh. Yeah, he’s right there.” you point behind him.

“wait, really?”

When he turns around to look, you smack him on the back of the skull (lightly!) and start running for the subway station. He immediately realizes what happened and chases after you, laughing. He can’t keep up very well, of course, but he knows the thrill is in giving chase. It’s also your method of getting him down into the station- he chases, stumbling after you, not even thinking about the threshold of the new, scary place. All he can think about is chasing after you as you fly down the stairs. 

“i’m gonna get you back for that!”

You look back and squeal, realizing just how close to you he’s gotten, and take a bit of a leap down a few stairs. He instinctively keeps you from slipping or hitting the ground too hard with blue magic. You want to thank him for the gesture, even though he didn’t have to, but that isn’t part of the game. Abruptly, though, it drops you to the ground, and you and on your foot sideways. Cursing silently, you look back up at Sans to see what happened. A brawny guy has him held to the wall by his skull, looking very, very angry. You jump to your feet, wincing as your ankle complains, and hop up the next few steps to them.

“What are you doing to that girl? Is you trying to kidnap her? What was that magic?”

“Sir!” you exclaim. He looks over at you, along with Sans, who you notice with a sinking feeling, looks to be in a bit of pain. “Let go, please, he isn’t that strong! He’s my friend, we were just- he was trying to keep me from falling,” you explain hurriedly. 

“Oh.”

He pulls his hand off of Sans, releasing him from the wall. Sans checks himself- shit. 0.5 HP. Not even a mild concern on most monsters, and his mere decimals are sturdier than they look, but he feels like he might pass out or something. Ugh, feels like there are rocks rattling around in his skull. He finds you, and you hurriedly pull him to yourself, checking the light scratch on his skull. You press a light kiss to the top of it, which at the very least, gives him enough motivation to lift a hand and put some healing magic on it. 

“I understand your concern, sir,” you say, through gritted teeth, “but he did not have any negative intentions. In fact, I landed wrong when he let go of me.”

To your satisfaction, the guy actually looks sort of timid afterwards at the scolding. He scratches the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “Ah. Um. Sorry about that- I- do not get in a very good headspace when people do bad things to women.”

“Oh.” It’s your turn to have a sort of realization of your misunderstanding. “I understand. Thank you for your help, though.”

He nods, apologizes a few more times, and heads on his way. Sans finally speaks up, once he’s managed to fix the scratch. Of course, his first priority is asking if you’re alright. 

“you said you landed wrong?”

“It’s no problem, I’ll walk it off. Just screwed with my ankle a little bit, no biggie. Are you okay? That looked painful.”

“tell me about it. damn. nice to know people out here have your back, though. even if, uh, they don’t really? i dunno.”

“I know what you’re saying. C’mon, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late.”

He loops your arm over his shoulders, helping you take a bit of pressure off your ankle. You don’t mind the help, even if Sans is a bit short for it. Hop, hop, hop, down the stairs. Hop, hop, hop, to a bench. Hop, hop, hop, to the train. Your other foot is more tired than your messed up one, and Sans is giggling like a little kid. 

“you oughta work at ihop.”

“Shush.”

“c’mon, that one was good,” he says, as more people stream onto the subway. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors close with a little bang- Sans looks over, excited. Everyone jerks a bit to the left as it picks up speed, holding onto poles or the handrails on the ceiling. Sans just holds onto you. You survey the people on the car- a lot of moms with kids today, there must be some sort of event downtown. The usual cluster of guys in the corner seats, talking in low voices and laughing about who knows what. You pull out your phone to check it- Sans pokes at your arm until you look at him. He’s giving you the Look. The “I’m Worried And I Want To Know If You’re Okay” look.

“I’m fine, it’s just a little bruise or something. Humans bruise their bones all the time. Hurts for a while, but it’s better than breaking a bone.”

“sprained, you think?”

“Aw, you’ve been reading the medical book I bought you. Yeah, I think it might be. Again: still much better than breaking it. It’s not your fault.”

“ugh, i know. people are hard,” he sighs, pressing his face to your shoulder. “you’re easy. i love it.” 

“You’re easy, too. And not everyone is so bad. Hey- look at that.”

He looks up- there’s a boy on the other side of the subway, looking at Sans, mesmerized. His eyes might as well have literal stars in them, dangit. 

“I think he likes you,” you whisper.

Sans nods, giving the kid a tentative smile. He returns it, twice as bright, before jumping out of his seat and swinging past a few people to get right in front of you. Geez, that was fast, you think. 

“Hello!” he says, brightly, that huge grin still on his face. 

“uh… sup.”

“Are you a skeleton?”

“that i am, kiddo. you a human?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding kind of disappointed. “My name’s Jeremy.”

“heh. nice name. i like your shirt.”

He looks down at the graphic t-shirt- it has a cat with sunglasses on it, and the words “Pawsome!” above it in big neon green letters. He smiles again, enthusiasm bubbling up happily at the complement.

“It’s my favorite because it’s a pun!”

“puns are purr-fect, kiddo.”

“Yeah, they- wait, that was a joke!” he laughs- “Yeah, ‘cause cats purr!”

“you got it.”

You fight the urge to laugh. This kid has too much enthusiasm for his own good, and Sans is taking it like a champ- at least for someone who’s naturally averse to loud sounds. You guess Papyrus probably has something to do with his resilience. You glance up, wondering if his mom is watching. She is, smiling slightly, face warm. She looks borderline embarrassed. You wave slightly, knowing she probably can’t hear you over the noise the train is making. She waves back, mouthing an apology. You wave it off, shooting her a thumbs-up. Sans and the kid exchange cat puns for a while, until he skids to the side as the subway comes to a halt. Sans catches him before he goes flying off, but also has to hold onto your leg to anchor himself. When you squeak, he looks at you and grins suggestively; you want to smack him, but you decide against it. There are parents watching- specifically that nice mom across from you. 

People hop off when the doors start opening, and you stand (stumbling a little on your ankle). The mother crosses over for Jeremy. He looks kind of disappointed, but also excited he can introduce “his new skeleton friend” to her. 

“His name’s Sans! And he’s a skeleton, and he likes jokes! He liked my shirt!”

“Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you for keeping an eye on him, it’s everything I have to keep him entertained on drives like that,” she says to you and Sans, shaking your hands. “Is your ankle hurt? You’re limping.” 

“Oh, it’s nothing big, I just hurt my foot earlier. I’ll make do.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear it- anyway, we have to go! Say bye, Jeremy, and shake hands.”

“Dad taught me how to shake hands real good,” he says, shaking your hand like he’s trying to strangle it. You giggle and shake back with the same intensity. 

When he goes to shake Sans’, it’s honestly like he’s not even ready for it. His hand lasted one, two, three shakes, before-

POP!

The skeleton hand released from his wrist, left in the kid’s smaller one. He looks at it for a few seconds, taking it in, before screaming bloody murder. His mom starts sputtering apologies and shouts, angry and apologetic and panicking. Jeremy drops the hand on the floor, stumbling backwards and landing on his butt- you look over when you feel Sans shaking. He’s bent over, shaking violently- the mom is crouched down, trying to see if he’s alright, gingerly picking the hand up off the ground and dusting it off. You jump when he explodes into laughter, so hard he has to lean on you for support. You have legitimately never seen him laugh so hard in all the time you’ve known him. You think he might cry.

“oh- oh my GOD that was the- i can’t believe he- oh- oh that was too good-“

“Sans!” you exclaim, starting to laugh yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Did you do that on PURPOSE?!”

“no! and that’s what makes it so funny!!”

“Sans, you’re scaring everyone!” you say, trying to hold down a straight face.

“probably- oh, geez, heheheh! hey, hey, kiddo, it’s fine.”

Jeremy looks up from his place on the floor- where he’s still screaming and sobbing like he just died. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean’ta!”

“it’s- it’s fine, buddo, that was THE funniest thing to happen to me. oh, ffff…. uh. freakin’. freakin ddddangit.”

You snort at his attempt to censor himself- he really is a riot sometimes. You glance at your phone, hoping today’s various distractions won’t make you late- you jump. The movie starts in five minutes, you’ll have to shortcut if your’e going to make it!

“Oh my god the movie starts in five minutes we have to go-”

“what?” he says, wiping away laughter tears.

“The movie!! We’re gonna be late, we gotta shortcut!”

“oh- oh, i need my hand-“ he starts to laugh a bit more at that, so you take the initiative of looking at Jeremy’s still-mortified-looking mom, who’s holding the slightly trembling hand in both of hers.

“I’m so sorry about all this, can we have that back?”

“Uh- I um- of course, I am so sorry, is there anyway we can make it up to you?”

The rest happened in a blur of motion and panic. You were just taking his hand when Sans clenched it into a fist to mess with you; of course he could still control it, it was all magic. You fumbled it- it fell to the floor. Jeremy ran forward to get it and-

*crunch*.

~~~~~~

“aaand that’s what happened to my hand,” Sans tells Alphys, admiring the prosthetic she just re-attatched to his arm.

“You’re k-kidding, right?”

“i wish. that hand really came in handy when i needed a hand.”

“Sans.”

“i thought i could handle it, but i guess gravity got the upper hand.”

“Sans.”

“hands down, though, that was the handiest hand i’ve ever handled, though on the other hand this hand is pretty handsome.”

“You have got to be kidding me, right?”

“toriel kids. i crack a joke.”

“You just made a goat pun and a broken bone pun.”

“that i did.”

“Do you want me to tell you what I want to tell you or not, Sans.”

“hand it to me.”

She glares at him, snickering, while he shoots her one of those huge grins that even she can’t control smiling back at.

“I-I was going to ask how the m-movie was. Did you see it?”

“nope.”

“Do y-you want to?”

“sure.”

“I was just t-thinking it would be a good way to test out your prosthetic in r-real time.”

“you mean HAND-“

Alphys stuffs a towel in his face until he finally gives up.

**Author's Note:**

> Sans has a prosthetic hand from subway accident...  
> AU


End file.
